Frozen Noire
by Michael-GoldenHeart23
Summary: Set in an alternate universe, the streets of 1940's Arentropolis are teeming with corruption and mystery. When two aristocrats are murdered, Detective Kristoff Bjorgman must bring their killer to justice.
1. Chapter 1 - Falling Stars

**Falling Stars**

The night was extremely cold and frigid. It was another chilling start to springtime and flowers had begun to bloom again. The moonlight reflected on their petals, giving off a luminescent glow that was almost enchanting. A powerful breeze brushed against the flowers and hedges leading up to a colossal estate. It was one of the richest homes in the entire city. Situated far from the bustling and restless cityscape, the estate exuberated feelings of peacefulness and solitude. The four-story manorhouse was completely blacked out, its residents fast asleep...or so it seemed.

Glass shattered on one of the lower levels. A whimpering cry rang out. Thumping echoed up the stairs, followed by a clamor and second shattering of glass. A light switched on in the second floor window. The ruckus continued upstairs. A pistol cocked before the shrill of two gunshots.

 **** _ **BANG!...BANG!**_ __

All went eerily silent until a pair of footsteps ran upstairs. A wrenching scream was loosed. "MOMMAAAAA! POPPAAAAAAAA!" A young woman's heartbroken cries screeched throughout the night.

Two ice cubes plopped into a glass of water. This pair was soon accompanied by a hailstorm of ice cubes. There were so many, that the glass began to overflow. A young man picked up the glass and sipped from it. He shook himself awake from the coldness and huffed. He was a blonde with exceptional muscle tone. This was attributed to all of the farm work he endured as a child. He was dressed in a grey suit with a white shirt underneath. His black belt and shoes were shined and polished. A dark, forest green tie was loosely wrapped around his neck.

A german shepherd rested at his feet, licking up one of the ice cubes he'd dropped during the beverage bombardment. The office door swung open, as a short and pudgy man came in. He was clean-shaven with a slight overbite protruding from his lips. A straw hat rested atop of his head, and he wore white suit with a brown undershirt. He straightened his tiny orange bowtie and said, "Kristoff...Kristoff..."

The blonde man shook off his daydreaming, sipped his icy water, and turned. "What is it, Olaf?"

"The chief needs us. It's ugly."

Kristoff raised both brows as he rose to his feet. He motioned for his canine companion to stay and followed Olaf down the hall. The duo filed in with a group of officers and detectives. "It was only a matter of time before someone smoked them," scowled a policeman. "You can't expect to flaunt that kind of wealth and not pay the price."

"Have some respect for the dead," jeered another officer.

Kristoff and Olaf passed the men and entered through doors reading: **_Chief Kai_**

Chief Kai was a stockier man with thinning auburn hair. "Well boys, this just may be the biggest hit this city has taken. Loved by many...hated by few...the pride of Arentropolis, has been murdered."

Kristoff tensed up, "No."

"I'm afraid so. Double homicide. The victims leave behind two beautiful daughters."

"That's awful," grieved Olaf.

"But such is life," sighed the chief. "All we can do know is see justice brought down upon the murderer."

"Or murderers," thought Kristoff.

"Indeed. I want you two to head over to the crime scene and salvage what you can. Try to get as much information as possible from the daughters before they break down. You're lucky if they haven't already."

"Yes sir," said Kristoff.

"Yes sir," repeated Olaf.

Kai nodded, "Dismissed."

Kristoff returned to his office and plucked a grey fedora from its hook. He put it on, tugged at the brim, and whistled, "Sven! Come on, boy!" His german shepherd came barking down the hall to join them. The three then headed to the streets and into a blue, Hudson Commodore police car. Kristoff started it up just as the radio crackled with a female's voice. "This is dispatch."

"This is Detective Bjorgman. Go ahead, dispatch." responded Kristoff.

"News reporters woke up bright and early. They're swarming the estate so you'd best hurry before we lose control of them."

"Don't worry," said Kristoff. "We like to go fast." He turned on the siren and floored the gas pedal. 


	2. Chapter 2 - Sisters in Turmoil

_Sisters in Turmoil_

The Hudson Commodore screeched as it turned down a bustling avenue. Kristoff floored the gas pedal again, causing Olaf to be pressed back into his seat. Sven stuck his head out of the window and opened his mouth, allowing his tongue to sway in the wind. The streets of Arentropolis were always teeming with traffic jams and jaywalkers, forcing Kristoff to swerve down an alleyway and ascend to a grassy hill. This formation acted as a makeshift shortcut to the crime scene.

As the car bumped profusely, Olaf gulped. His face began to flush with red as he removed his hat and place it over his mouth. He groaned while falling ill. "Are...*belch*...we there yet?"

The car came to an immediate stop, its back tires grinding dirt against the pavement. Kristoff composed himself, "Yes." He opened the door as Olaf plopped out and immediately kissed the ground. Sven hopped out of the backseat and strutted alongside his master.

The manor house was surrounded by reporters and curious bystanders. Kristoff slowly, but assertively shoved his way through the the crowds, ignoring their irritating questions and remarks. Olaf squeezed passed them with ease, attributing his endeavors to his pudgy height. He gazed up at the enormous mansion and gasped, "It's...enormous."

"Yeah..." sighed Kristoff. "Money doesn't buy happiness, but it buys this...and it'd make me happy." He looked straight ahead, spotting Coroner Gerda at the front door. She gave a light nod and beckoned him over. Kristoff removed his fedora and used his hand to brush back his blonde hair. As he placed put the hat back on, he made his way to her. With a tightening of his tie and a deep breath, Kristoff prepared himself for the worst. He locked eyes with Gerda and followed her into the manorhouse. The estate was swarming with police officers and other investigators. Kristoff could hear sobbing echoing from the kitchen. He leaned back to examine what was transpiring, and saw an officer hugging a crying woman.

"Detective Bjorgman?" called Gerda. "Are you coming?"

"Ye-...Yes," nodded Kristoff before following Gerda upstairs. Olaf and Sven trailed behind him as they rounded two entire flights. As they reached the upper corridor, the group found themselves staring down at two bodies, each atop their own puddle of blood. The bodies were male and female, dressed in sleepwear and still holding each other.

The coroner sighed, "Such a shame. Agdar and Idun were Arentropolis' wealthiest aristocrats. They had lives to live...changes to bring about. There was even talk of Agdar running for mayor." Gerda felt herself getting emotional as her breath shortened. "Such a shame. A damn shame!" She recomposed herself, "They've been dead for at least seven hours. She was first...then he was shot. I'll let you take a look."

Kristoff stood firm and knelt beside the bodies. Agdar was cradling his wife, his lifeless eyes were still fixed upon her. A gunshot wound could be seen on his neck, along with a gash on his shoulder. He was also missing one of his slippers. Idun had a gunshot wound in her chest, her eyes were shut. Kristoff hummed in thought as he visualized what had transpired. He was such a vivid thinker, he could practically hear the gunshots. He began to dictate as Olaf took notes. "Our killer shoots Idun dead. Agdar grabs her, cradles her in shock. Killer takes opportunity to finish the job and make his escape." Kristoff stood up, "I'm going to have a look around."

"By all means," agreed Gerda. "I suggest starting with the bullet casings at the edge of then staircase."

Kristoff picked up one of the shells and examined it. ".32 Magnum casing. This guy was packing heat. That explains the size of the bullet wounds."

"Poor couple," grieved Olaf.

Kristoff returned downstairs to find a shattered picture frame midway. He picked it up and turned it over. The cracked frame held a black and white photograph of the entire family. A younger version of the couple could be seen besides two little girls. The image prompted feelings of duty and urgency in Kristoff. "We gotta catch this bastard." He put down the picture and continued downstairs. Upon entering the foyer, he glanced down at a toppled grandfather clock. Its glass entrails lay broken across the carpet along with several splatters of blood. An overturned slipper was pressed against the clock. "Agdar must've tripped. That explains the shoulder wound." Kristoff heard crying in the kitchen again. "Who is that?"

"Those would be their daughters," said an officer from across the hall. "The eldest, Elsa...and her sibling, Anna."

Kristoff remained stern and entered the kitchen. Elsa was in a wrinkled, baby blue nightgown. Her blonde hair was curled freely behind her. Her blue eyes could barely be seen through the redness and tears. Her sister, Anna, embraced her. She was in a lime green nightgown, and her red heir flowed in multiple directions. She was an absolute wreck, grasping onto her older sister for comfort as tears rolled down her freckled cheeks. Elsa glanced up at Kristoff and tapped Anna, indicating for her to sit up. Elsa stood tall and sniffled, "Can I help you?"

"I'm Detective Kristoff Bjorgman. This is my partner Olaf, and canine, Sven." The german shepherd rested his head on Anna's lap in an attempt to comfort her. "I'm here to help in any way that I can. If I could just...ask you a few questions."

"Of course," replied Elsa.

"Help us," interrupted Anna.

"Anna-" muttered Elsa. "Let him-"

"Help us!" screamed Anna, her tears streaming away. "Find whoever did this!" she flailed. "I...it...I-I-.." She broke down as Olaf put his arm around her.

"Come on," said the shorter detective. "Let's take a walk." Sven barked behind them, leaving Kristoff alone with Elsa.

"You'll have to forgive my sister and I-"

"No..." assured Kristoff. "You have just taken a horrible loss and your actions are completely justifiable. Now please help me, so that I may bring this perpetrator to justice."

"Indeed," replied Elsa.

"Tell me what happened,"

Elsa sighed and cleared her throat, "I was asleep when I heard a door slam. It sounded...as if it was being broken open. Poppa often stayed up late to read. I was worried that perhaps he had fallen against it. I woke up my sister and called downstairs. Poppa didn't answer. Anna called next, and then we did so together. I heard Momma call out for Poppa, and then I heard her scream. Anna and I leapt out of bed and saw her run upstairs. Something crashed downstairs, then there was another shattering sound. We heard the gunshots and turned down the hall where...where-" Her lips trembled and she closed her eyes. A tear instantly dripped from each eye."

"I see," sighed Kristoff. "Did you catch a glimpse of the killer?"

Elsa thought hard on the question and shook her head. "No. It all happened too fast. I was focused on my parents, but I did hear footsteps running back downstairs. After that, Anna and I locked ourselves back in the bedroom until sunrise."

Kristoff nodded, "Understandable. Do you know anyone that would want to hurt your parents?"

Elsa shook her head, "We've always had people envy us, and call us derogatory terms...but never threaten to bring any harm. If anything, this was probably an act of vengeance."

Kristoff craned his neck, "How so?"

Elsa grit her teeth with a hiss, "Hans."

"Hans?"

"Anna's fiancé. They had been engaged for half a year before Momma and Poppa caught onto Hans' scheme. He just wanted our wealth. He didn't care about my sister at all. He never cared about anyone."

"So what happened to him?"

"After coming to such a realization, Anna broke off the engagement. Hans blamed Momma and Poppa for 'brainwashing' her into doing so. He hated my parents."

"I'd best talk to Anna about Hans. Thank you for your time, Elsa." Kristoff walked out of the kitchen and followed the sound of Olaf's voice. He was out on the veranda, allowing Anna to pet Sven. "Anna," called Kristoff.

She turned, her blue eyes staring directly at him. He felt his heart sink. She was gorgeous in Kristoff's eyes, and he knew it. Her beauty and youth provoked sadness in Kristoff's heart. He felt terrible for her and her sister, and the loss they had taken.

"I suppose you want to ask me some questions, detective?" sighed Anna.

"Yes, that's correct. I know where you and Elsa were during the shootings, but I need to know about your fiancé." Kristoff gulped, "I mean, ex-fiancé."

Anna sneered at the detectives words. "Hans," she scorned. "What about him?"

"How long were you together?"

"About a year and a half. We met at a theater spewing movies about the war. He spoke like a true patriot...I guess I liked that about him. Liked...even loved. But I guess love at first sight isn't always the case."

Kristoff craned his neck with intrigue. "How did he treat you?"

"Oh he treated me well. Spoiled me rotten, he did." Anna bit her lip, "But after he proposed...things changed. He started caring way more about how much money he'd inherit. He'd blab on and on about it, to the point of disgust. He and Poppa always argued about political views."

"Right, your father was supposed to run for mayor," added Kristoff.

Anna nodded with a huff, "And Hans hated that. Oh he despised any mention of it. I defended Poppa, which infuriated him further. As our relationship intensified, my sister and parents advised me to break off ties with Hans. I took the advice, and Hans fell apart. He'd curse out my parents for forcing our break up, and would claim that he truly loved me. His love turned to hatred. He went out drinking his so-called sorrows away. He became such a recluse and loose-cannon, that his brothers kicked him out of the house. They always abused him."

"Would you say he was...mentally unstable?" Anna slowly nodded. Kristoff cleared his throat, "Enough to kill your parents?"

Anna felt tears swelling up as the traumatizing flashbacks returned to her. "At this point, I don't see why not, detective. He hated them, and wanted our wealth. What better evidence do you need?"

Kristoff remained stone-faced. "Do you know where Hans lives now?"

Anna grimaced, "A string of apartments in West Arentropolis. _Fixer-Upper Apartments,_ yeah...that was the name. Perhaps he thought he needed to work on himself." The freckled redhead rolled her eyes. "Before you ask, the only reason I know where he live is because he'd invite me every other day. He'd send letters, saying he wanted to 'make things right'. Of course I ignored them all. I probably drove him over the edge. This is all...all my fault."

"No it's not," assured Kristoff. "You are not responsible for anyone's actions but your own. Thank you for your time, Anna. I express my deepest condolences for your parents and will do my best to see justice served."

Anna then hugged him, "Thank you, detective." He let go first, and returned inside to be with her sister.

Kristoff walked back to the car with Olaf and Sven. His pudgy assistant said, "So...we headed for _Fixer-Upper Apartments_?"

"Soon," replied Kristoff as he examined the .32 shell casings. "We need to make a quick stop first."


	3. Chapter 3 - A Grievous Fiancé

_A Grievous Fiancé_

It was early afternoon by the time Kristoff parked at one of Arentropolis' many vendors. Olaf peered up and read the store's sign. "Oaken's Firearms."

Kristoff stepped in as a voice hollered, "Yoo hoo! Big springtime blow out! Half off prices on all handguns!" The voice came from a huge, burly man with a bushy beard. He wore a white shirt with black suspenders. He gasped, "Oh! Detective! Always good to see you again. I'll deduct even more prices-"

"That won't be necessary, old friend." assured Kristoff.

"Oh," sulked Oaken. "Are you just buying ammunition today?"

"No, I-"

"Well then what are you doing here?!"

Kristoff clenched his fists and calmed his temper, "If you'd let me talk, I'd explain." He began to open his mouth when Olaf interrupted.

"We need answers." said Olaf as Kristoff grit his teeth in frustration.

"What kind of answers?" asked Oaken.

Kristoff covered Olaf's mouth with his hand, "I'll tell you if you just let me-"

 ** _WOOF!  
_**  
Kristoff angrily covered Sven's mouth as well. "Look, I need to know what kind of gun this came from."

He handed Oaken the shell casing and he examined it. The burly vendor squinted and hummed with intrigue. "Ahhh yes...Of course...Uh-huh...Maybe...Yes...No...Well...I...Yes..."

Kristoff impatiently tapped his foot, "Well?"

"Aha!" Oaken snapped his fingers and opened the drawer behind the counter. He removed a large book cataloging every gun purchase over the last several months. "The shell casing fit into a magnum pistol, one of which I had sold just over a week ago." He pulled out a picture of a sleek handgun. "The Nagant M1895 revolver. Powerful...POWERFUL gun."

"Who purchased this firearm?" asked Kristoff.

"A rich boy turned street bum," replied Oaken as he pointed at the name in his book. "A Mr. Hans Westergard."

A chill ran down Kristoff's neck. He pouted in thought. "That's all I needed. Thank you for your help, Oaken. Come on, Olaf...Sven, you too." The trio returned to the car and made for _Fixer Upper Apartments._

By three in the afternoon, the detectives had reached the apartment complex. Kristoff sighed and stepped out of his car, turning to say, "Wait here."

Olaf nodded, "You got it." He continuously pet Sven, who let out a bark.

Kristoff made his way to the front desk. An adolescent male sat reading the newspaper. The headline read: _Gruesome Murder Leaves Aristocrats Orphans. Killer At Large._ The young man brushed away his long black hair, exposing his blue-eyed stare. "Can I help you?"

"Where can I find Hans Westergard?"

The youth huffed and rummaged through a series of files. "Building 14. Apartment 1421."

"Thank you," nodded the detective. He raised both brows and pressed on when he realized the teen ignored him. He ventured across the parking lot and over to building 14. After scaling a flight of stairs, Kristoff found himself face to face with apartment 1421. He sternly knocked. The brief silence was followed by the sounds of toppling furniture. "APD. Open the door now," he affirmed. In that instant, he heard the echoing click of a revolver. His eyes winded and he started left. Just as he did, several bullets blasted through the door and out against the wall. Kristoff pulled out his pistol and removed the safety. "Put the weapon down, Hans! NOW!" Another shot rang out, and Kristoff could hear rapid footsteps inside.

He firmly grasped his gun and kicked down the door. As he took aim, he caught a glimpse of Hans running into the next room. Hans turned and fired again, "Stay away from me, dammit!" Kristoff took cover as Hans pushed open his window and slipped out. He rammed himself against the lower balcony and crashed to the ground.

As Hans winced in pain, Kristoff ran downstairs and gave chase. Hans fired his pistol once more and bolted across the street. Olaf drove the car in front to cut him off. Hans saw this and shifted leftward. The car door swung open, and Sven darted out, growling at the suspect. Kristoff watched as his canine lunged upwards and bit Hans in the leg. He fell face-first just as Kristoff pinned him to the ground. He kicked away the firearm and said, "Good work, Sven."

Olaf got out of the car and picked up Hans' revolver, "It's a Nagant M1895."

"Let me go!" writhed Hans, his face reddened from the fall.

"Oh Hans..." began Kristoff. "This does not look good for you." He glanced over at Olaf. "Let's take him back to the station and find out what he knows.

It was five o'clock back at the Arentropolis Police Station. Kristoff sat across from a handcuffed Hans in the interrogation room. Anna's fiancé had a thin face with thick auburn sideburns. He glared at Kristoff with his piercing green eyes.

Kristoff sipped his freezing water. "You fled, and opened fire on a police officer WITH the exact same weapon used on Idun and Agdar. Start talking Hans. You can confess now or spend a-"

"I didn't do it!" snapped Hans. His fingers trembled and his right eye twitched.

Kristoff raised a brow, "Little stressed?"

"More scared,"

"I'd be too if I had committed double-homicide."

"No!" Hans jeered. "Look, I didn't like Anna's parents, but I'd never kill them. I love Anna."

"Still?"

"Yes. I never stopped loving her."

Kristoff slowly nodded while writing in his notepad. His eyes shot from Hans and his writings several times. "Why did you run?"

"I thought you were...someone else."

"Oh?"

Hans clenched his fists. "The revolver wasn't mine. It was given to me last night."

"By...who?" intoned Kristoff. As Hans remained silent, Kristoff pondered, "Hans...why did your brothers oust you out of the house?"

Hans huffed, "After Anna broke up with me I got into drinking. I became a bum, and my family wouldn't have it." His eyes remained fixed on the table as he bit his lip.

Kristoff's glare intensified. "I think you're lying, Hans. I think you're covering up for someone. You'd better give me a name or you'll rot for a crime you didn't commit! We've got plenty of evidence stacked against you, so start talking!"

"Okay..." replied Hans. "I was doing business...with the mob. Nothing on a wide-scale, but I'd gamble with them. They liked me because we shared a hatred for Anna's parents. Agdar and vowed that if he was elected mayor, he'd crackdown on organized crime and put an end to it. When my brothers found out I was involved, I was immediately shunned. My father was an old friend of Agdar, and my dealings with the mob made him disown me." Hans gulped. "I know...great dad."

"Great dad indeed," agreed Kristoff. Hans sulked at the comment. "Who gave you the gun?"

"One of the don's men. Don Weselton, that is. After I was shunned, the mob provided for me. They gave me this apartment in exchange for information about Anna and her family. During one of my venting sessions, the don said the Weselton family would put an end to Agdar's campaign. We laughed about it, so I thought we were just joking."

"You thought an organized crime lord was joking?"

"Hey I was broken at the time! I needed to vent."

Kristoff shook his head, "There's no excuse for your actions. You always have a choice, Hans...What happened next?"

Hans thought for a moment while giving one of his sideburns a scratch. "One of Don Weselton's men came to my apartment last night. He said that another mob family had hired a hit man to murder Anna and her entire family. You know, to serve as an example to any who tried to shut down their organization. I was devastated to ear that the love of my life and her family were dead. Things got worse when the gangster told me that the rival family was severing all ties that the family had. They were coming for me next, and I was given this gun to defend myself. I was warned that the hit man would use any methods to hunt me down...even pose as a police officer. That's why I opened fire and ran."

"Why didn't you call the police?"

"I was scared,"

Kristoff closed his notepad. "If what you say is true, your informant lied, and Anna and Elsa are lucky to be alive. I want you to take me to where you and the Weselton family would meet."

"But I-...They'll kill me and-"

"Do you love Anna?"

Hans sighed, "Of course I do. More than anyone."

"Someone out there will not stop until her and her sister are dead. So you can either sit here, hope you're stories true, and eventually stare down Anna's pale face in a casket...or, you can redeem yourself, and help me catch this killer."

Hans stared back at Kristoff and squinted his eyes. He relaxed his shoulders and nodded, "Alright...I'll help." 


	4. Chapter 4 - Conspiracy

_Conspiracy_

Hans led Kristoff, Olaf and Sven to a bar in Arentropolis' entertainment district. Kristoff observed the flashing sign, depicting an exotic bird.

 _THE AGILE PEACOCK_

"What a peculiar name for a club," thought Olaf.

"It was Don Weselton's idea," scoffed Hans. "Come on." He opened the doors, amplifying the booming jazz music within. People of all classes danced across its vibrant, spotlit floor while others drank their troubles away.

"Who exactly are we looking for?" pondered Kristoff.

Hans sniffled, "There's one of my pals." He pointed at a bulky, bearded man in a pinstriped vest. "Dominik!"

The man shuttered at the sound of Hans' voice and nearly spilt his tequila. "Ha-...Hans? What the hell are...what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" questioned Hans. "I stayed home like you told me to. Thought I'd-"

"Who are...they?" Dominik glared at Kristoff, Olaf and Sven.

"They're my...bodyguards."

"I see," grumbled Dominik with a nod. "Let me get the don. I'll be right back." He stood up and made for the back of the club.

"Sure," replied Hans. "We'll wait here and-..." Kristoff tailed after the mobster. "Wait, what are you doing?"

Olaf placed his hand against Hans' arm. "Trust me, he knows what he's doing."

Kristoff shuffled through the dancing crowds, keeping his eyes fixed on the back of Dominik's head. He watched as the mobster entered a door backstage and locked it. Kristoff cursed under his breath and took a stroll towards the stage. The jazz band glared awkwardly at him as he walked passed them on the stage. One flash of his badge was enough to get them minding their own business.

Kristoff gingerly pushed back the stage curtains and kept shifting until he heard Dominik's voice. "He's here, dammit."

"That doesn't make any sense," said an older voice. Kristoff snuck a glance backstage to see a scrawny old man in a black suit and tie. A short-brimmed fedora rested on his head. He sneered through his bushy, white mustache. "The police should have arrested him by now. We told him to stay put."

A younger man spat, "I planted the gun just like you said. The bastard should have taken the heat off our trail."

"Quiet, Fritz." scolded the don.

Kristoff felt a hand clench his shoulder and nearly shrieked. It was Hans, "What do you think you're-"

"Shhh!" snapped Kristoff. "Listen." Hans eavesdropped over Kristoff's shoulder as the conversation continued.

Dominik growled, "This is that new hitman's fault. This is what happens when we don't do our own dirty work. I would've pumped Agdar's entire family full of lead along with him. But you thought that Frost kid deserved a chance to prove himself."

"Speaking of which," hissed the don. "Boy! Get in here!" His call beckoned a slim, young man into the room. He had light grey hair and bright blue eyes. "Why didn't you kill the daughters?"

"I...I panicked," trembled Jack. "They were so frightened."

"Well Mr. Frost, if you'd like to work for me, you'd best lose your empathy. I only hire cold-blooded killers!"

"Yes...yes of course, Don Weselton," panicked Jack.

"Worry not. You'll get your second chance when we go to finish the job tonight. Fritz and Dominik will show you how it's really done. I'll send one of my other hitmen to deal with Hans." The don huffed with frustration, "It's only a matter of time before-"

Kristoff had heard enough. He emerged from the curtains with his pistol trained on the don. "APD! Hands in the air!"

They stared back at him in shock until Hans yelled, "Look out!" He shoved Kristoff to the ground just as a barrage of bullets tattered across the curtains. The gunshots sent the entire nightclub into a frenzy of mass hysteria. One of the don's men crouched behind a stage prop and continued to fire his Thompson submachine gun. Two other mobsters emerged from back stage with Thompsons while the don made his getaway.

Hans and Kristoff backed up against the nearest crate as bullets rattled against it. Kristoff shoved Hans down and fired back with his pistol. A bullet struck one of the shooters in the neck, and he spent his final moments writhing and choking on the ground. "We have to beat them to Anna and Elsa!" shouted Kristoff over the gunfire. He yanked Hans by the collar and sprinted across the dancefloor. They rendezvoused with Olaf and Sven before getting in the car and flooring it for the manor house.

Streetlights flashed across the car's windshield. Kristoff kept one hand intensely gripping the steering wheel while wiping his sweat with the other. "We can't let them get to Anna and Elsa." He handed Hans a spare pistol. "Here, you know how to shoot."

"You trust me with one of those?" asked Hans. "Even after I shot at you?"

"You trust HIM with one of those? gasped Olaf. "Even after he shot at you?"

Kristoff bit his lip. "I do now. Hans, you help us now and I'll get your name cleared."

"I'm not sure I can be as tough as you though," sighed Hans. In that instant, several machine gun rounds struck the back of the police car. The don's men were in pursuit. Hans rolled down the window and fired back at them, "Bring it you backstabbing little shits!"

"Yeah...I trust him," affirmed Kristoff. He made a hard left across a three-way intersection. While he managed to skid through, one of the mobster cars was hit by a delivery truck.

"Did we lose them?" wondered Olaf.

A second car pulled up beside them. "Nope," cringed Hans.

"GET DOWN!" roared Kristoff as rapid-fire bullets smashed the car's windows and bombarded the dashboard. Kristoff swerved out of control and made a hard right, sideswiping the mobsters off of the overpass. He wiped the glass shards out of his hair and accelerated to maximum speed. He called in on the radio, "All units respond. We need immediate backup at the manorhouse. Secure Anna and Elsa."

"Ummmm partner?" worried Olaf.

"What?" turned Kristoff. He peered downwards, realizing the radio had been shot up and destroyed. "Oh...Guess we're on our own."


	5. Chapter 5 - Sin and Sacrifice

_Sin and Sacrifice_

Anna sat by her window sill, slowly rubbing her finger across the thick glass. She sniffled and wiped a tear from her drenched cheeks. As she reached for yet another tissue, she fought to hold back her tears. The day had been absolutely toilsome to get through, and her sister stepped in to make things better.

"Anna dear," said Elsa as she sat beside her. "We have to be strong for them."

"I know," replied Anna as she took her sisters hand in hers. She clenched it and gasped, "It's just so hard!"

"I know it is, Anna. I know." Elsa hugged her little sister and rubbed her slim back. "We're going to get through this. We need only-"

 ** _SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!  
_**  
The skid of cars on the pavement drew Anna and Elsa to the window. Their blue eyes blared open at the sight of gunmen stepping out of their vehicles. "Elsa," panicked Anna. "What do we do?!"

Elsa gripped her by the arm, "With me. Quickly!" They ran down the hallway as Dominik kick down the door to the foyer.

Don Weselton remained in his car. He lit a cigar and grumbled to his gangsters, "Finish it."

Fritz and Jack nodded before joining Dominik inside. Jack was armed with a beretta pistol while the other men had Thompson machine guns. Behind them, two extra henchmen stormed into the manorhouse.

Dominik slowly crept upstairs, the nozzle of his gun pointed upwards. He tilted his head, listening for any possible sound. Anna and Elsa were in the elongated wardrobe of their parents' bedroom. The redhead trembled with fear as Elsa covered her mouth. Sweat began to trickle over her palm, but Elsa kept her composure.

The grandfather clock chimed across the hallway, startling Jack into firing at it. The bullets rang out and Fritz scolded, "Idiot!"

Elsa and Anna could hear Dominik step into the bedroom. He searched under the bed and behind the curtains. Elsa's heart nearly stopped as she watched his silhouette approach the wardrobe. He wrapped his thick, cutup fingers on of the latches and prepared to open it. Elsa took a breath and pushed the door open, slamming the mobster in the face and giving her a chance to flee. She grabbed her sister and bolted down the hall. "I found them!" barked Dominik. He took aim with his machine gun and fired. Bullets tore up the rug and wallpaper. Elsa shoved Anna into the next room to save her from the bullets. She then ran downstairs and across the adjacent hallway, attempting to distract the men from her sibling.

One of the mobsters was patrolling the expansive backyard when he heard Elsa scurrying downstairs. She ran outside and found herself face to face with him. She froze in shock as he aimed his pistol and caressed the trigger.

 ** _BANG!  
_**  
Elsa flinched to the ground. She trembled, slowly realizing that she had not been shot. She glanced up to see that Kristoff had shot the man dead. His police car had pulled into the yard moments earlier.

"Detective Bjorgman!" called Elsa. "My sister...Anna is still-"

"We'll take care of it," assured Kristoff. "Olaf, help Elsa. Hans, with me!" Hans followed Kristoff inside, giving a brief nod to his fiancé's sister.

Kristoff and Hans barged in to the sight of Jack, Fritz and the backup gangster. The result was an all-out firefight in the lobby. Kristoff got up against the wall while Hans turned over a table. As Kristoff emerged from cover a bullet grazed his calf, bringing him to his knees. Hans provided just enough cover fire for him to get back behind the wall.

After cringing with a growl, Kristoff exclaimed, "Last chance to put your weapons down and come quietly!"

"Like hell!" scorned Fritz as he unloaded a magazine clip.

It was then that Anna's scream echoed from the upstairs area. "Anna!" yelled Hans.

"Go to her!" ordered Kristoff. "I'll cover you!" He flung his hat from cover. While the backup gangster shot at it, Kristoff turned the corner and shot him twice in the face.

Hans dodged gunfire and ran up the stairs to help Anna. The young woman ran into her family library, evading Dominik's gunfire before he ran out of ammunition. He dropped the gun and pulled out a switch blade. "Here, sweetie sweetie." he taunted. "Where are youuuuu?" Anna emerged from cover and flung a book at him. He swatted it away and chased after her, "Shouldn't have done that!"

Kristoff shot Fritz in the shoulder before taking cover by the flipped table. Little did he know, Jack was sneaking up behind him. The younger man leapt behind Kristoff and put him in a headlock. The toned detective elbowed him in the face while backing up and smashing a glass mirror. Kristoff flung Jack out of the window and staggered forward. As he did so, he suffered a right hook punch from Fritz. Kristoff caught his next punch and kneed the mobster in the chin. They fell hard against the ground, and he felt several pieces of glass scrape against his back. Fritz stood up first and stomped on his chest. The hit knocked the wind out of Kristoff, but he rolled over and tripped Fritz. As his opponent fell, Kristoff grabbed a thin shard of glass and stabbed him in the neck with it. As Fritz was killed, the detective fell back, catching his breath.

Anna made a run for the library's exit, but Dominik caught her by the foot, causing both of them to fall. A sharp snap could be heard in Anna's leg and she screamed in pain. "No!" she cried trying to crawl across the floor. The fracture in her leg prevented her from standing. She kicked Dominik in the face with her good leg and clawed at the rug to inch her forward. He shook off the hit and dragged her back again. He raised the knife to stab her, but a bullet blasted it out of his hands. He turned to see Hans aiming his pistol in the doorway, and quickly toppled over a bookcase. The it sent Hans sliding against the wall and his pistol spiraling away. He searched for it, only to be punched by Dominik.

Hans coughed, "Anna...go!"

"Hans?" gasped Anna.

Dominik landed two punches across Hans' face before he fell facedown. He then yanked Hans up by the hair, but the aristocrat uppercutted him in the jaw. Dominik stumbled into four of Hans' aggressive punches before he blocked the fifth. The gangster turned Hans around, placing him in a reverse headlock. He began to tighten his grip as Hans wheezed for air. He fought back, but Dominik was much bigger than him.

It was in this perilous moment that Hans saw Anna holding his fallen pistol. She pointed it at Dominik with her rigorously shaking hands. Sweat soaked her freckled face as she grit her teeth. Hans knew what had to be done, and that there would never be another chance. "Do it," he grunted in the headlock. "Anna...do it."

Anna began to hyperventilate, "I...I-"

"DO IT!" roared Hans with his final breath.

 ** _BANG!  
_**  
Anna shot the pistol and fell back with recoil. The bullet went through Hans' chest and into Dominiks lower neck. Both men fell over as Anna shrieked.

Don Weselton sat in his car and puffed his cigarette. "What the hell is taking so long?"

Jack entered the car, wounded and exasperated. "We need to escape now!"

His arrival startled the don, and he dropped his cigar out the window. "Dammit, boy. What happened?"

"The police showed up," panted Jack. "Fritz is dead...Dominik, I don't know but-"

The don prepared to start the car, "We'll live to fight another day. The Weseltons will have their revenge if-"...He couldn't start the car. "If..." The car still would not start. "What the?" The old man poked his head out of the window to see that his gas tank had been cut, and a trail of oil leaked across the street.

At the end of the trail, Olaf stood humming. Sven barked and ran up to him with the don's cigar in his mouth. Olaf took the cigarette and said, "Your about to do exactly what snow does in summer." He dropped the cigar, sparking up a fire that darted for the car.

 ** _KABOOOOOM!  
_**  
The don and his newest hitman perished in a metal inferno.

Anna inched herself over to Hans, who was still breathing. He clenched his wound with a bloodied hand and coughed, "Nice shot."

"Hans I-"

"No..." he faintly smiled. "It's alright. It's...It's better like this. I can only hope I have redeemed myself."

"You have," nodded Anna.

He wearily gripped Anna's hand. "Please tell your sister, that I...I send my regrets, and that I am most sorry for...my actions." With a final breath, Hans closed his eyes and died in Anna's arms. Shortly afterwards, Anna passed out from her leg trauma.

It was midday when Anna woke up in the hospital room, a cast wrapped around her leg. Several bandages stretched across her face and arms as she groaned with soreness. She turned over to see Elsa sitting in the chair next to her bed. The blonde was reading a newspaper with a headline stating: 

**KILLERS FOUND AND JUSTICE SERVED. INTENSE SHOOTOUT ENDS WITH SEVEN DEAD. DETECTIVES TO BE PROMOTED.**

Elsa folded up the paper and smiled, "Good morning!...Or I should say afternoon."

"What happened?" asked Anna.

"It's all over, sis. The killers were stopped."

"Hans."

Elsa raised one of her thin blonde brows, "Hans?"

"He told me to tell you how sorry he was. For everything."

"I think we all have to apologize for our misjudgments," assured Elsa. "It's all over now. All we can do is move on from this moment forward."

"Of course. That's what our parents would want." Anna thought deeply on her sister's words. "It won't be easy, but we can do it together. So where do we start?"

"I'm not sure about where _I_ start," began Elsa with a smirk. "But I know where YOU start." Her eyes shifted to the doorway, where she saw Kristoff leaning against it. He held a bouquet a vibrantly colored roses.

"Detective," she slowly smiled as Elsa left the room.

"Kristoff," he corrected. "Call me Kristoff."

"Thank you for everything,"

"Justice must be served, no matter what. How are you feeling?"

"I'm a tough girl," she winked. "I'll be just fine. So...are those flowers for my sister?"

Kristoff nervously chuckled in response. "They're actually for you."

"I know," she stuck her tongue out at him.

He shyly scratched his blonde head, "Well I'd best be on my way." He placed the flowers on the desk across from her and turned to exit. "Get well soon, Anna."

"Wait," she stopped him.

He turned, "Yes?"

"Won't you stay for a...quick chat?"

Kristoff's eyes wandered for a moment before locking with hers. He began to grin at her and said, "...Gladly." 

**_THE END_**


End file.
